


Dad of the Year

by SpiritsFlame



Category: Men's Hockey RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe, Humor, M/M, Misunderstandings, boys being dumb, but fun ones, literally zero angst here, mild pining, no hockey au
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-13
Updated: 2019-08-13
Packaged: 2020-08-20 12:43:29
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,836
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20228044
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SpiritsFlame/pseuds/SpiritsFlame
Summary: Jamie has never in his life cared about other people’s kids, but hearing Tyler talk about tossing a ball around with Gerry at the park is somehow the highlight of his week.





	Dad of the Year

**Author's Note:**

  * For [literaryoblivion](https://archiveofourown.org/users/literaryoblivion/gifts).

Jamie has never been a regular anywhere in his life, but when he pushes open the door to Seguin’s Stars, Bishop gives him a wave from the register where a mom and her daughter are checking out. From her station, Cassidy makes a weird face at him, since her hands are full. He makes one back at her, and heads over to Bishop. 

“Starting them a bit young, aren’t you?” he asks, after the door has closed behind the mom and her kid. 

Bishop snorts. “I’m just glad that her mom knew better than to take her to a Claire’s or something. Those guns can fuck you up.” He holds out his hand for a greeting fistbump, and, upon receiving it, turns to the back. “Hey Segs, your boyfriend is here!”

Cassidy snort over the woman she’s working on, and Jamie feels his face flame red. “Come on, Bishop,” he says plaintively, “you know that’s not—”

“Jamie!” Tyler cuts him off, coming bounding out of the back room. “You’re early!” 

Jamie looks pointedly at his watch, then back to Tyler. “By less than five minutes.”

“Yeah, whatever,” Tyler says casually. “Let me grab my shit, and we can head out.” 

“You didn’t just bring it with you when you came out?” Cassidy asks, not looking up from her client. 

“Come on, Cass, don’t you know he had to see Jamie right now!” Bishop chirps, leaning on the counter to smirk at Jamie.

“I hate you both,” Tyler says. “Cassy, you’re fired.”

“You can’t fire me, my name’s on the building.”

“Um, no,” Tyler says, visibly fighting down a grin, “my name is on the building, and on the lease, and you’re fired.”

From under Cassidy’s needle, the woman she’s working on says “Please don’t fire her, I have another session after this.” 

Tyler laughs. “Fine. Cassidy, you’re rehired.” He points at her, “but you’re on thin ice.”

“Sure thing, boss man,” she says, sarcastically, and her client laughs. 

Tyler shakes his head, turning back to grab his bag. Jamie tries not to watch him go, his face still hot. He hates it when Bishop and Cassidy make those jokes, because it’s not going to happen. He decided months ago that it would have to be Tyler’s call, and Tyler has never shown any interest because— 

“Let’s roll, Benn,” Tyler says, tapping Jamie on the chest as he passes. “I gotta pick the boys up from daycare later. Cass, lock up when you’re done.”

Because Tyler is raising three kids by himself, and still hasn’t invited Jamie to meet them. 

He waves goodbye to Bishop and Cassidy, and follows Tyler out the door. Being Tyler’s gym partner and occasional bar buddy is enough. If Tyler needs an escape from being a single parent, Jamie can be that for him. But if Tyler wants more than that, if he wants Jamie to be a part of his life, he has to be the first one to say so. He’s never hidden the fact that he has kids from Jamie, even as young as he is, and Jamie can’t imagine how hard it is. He’s not going to add to Tyler’s burden by making him deal with all of Jamie’s feelings. 

“How was your week?” Tyler asks, jostling their shoulders together as they walk. Their gym is walking distance from Tyler’s studio, and it’s easier for Jamie to just pick him up. 

Jamie shrugs. “Uneventful. A few clients who keep arguing about their workout schedule, and a guy who won’t stick to the meal plan, and then gets pissed that he’s not getting the results he wants.”

Tyler nods knowingly. “A mocha latte waits for no man.”

Jamie rolls his eyes, because Tyler is cut as hell, and probably eats better than Jamie does. “Yeah, it’s a real struggle. How are the boys?”

Tyler lights up, the way he always does when he gets to talk about his kids. It had captivated Jamie five months ago when Tyler was working on his tattoo, and it’s just as captivating now. He’s never in his life cared about other people’s kids, but hearing Tyler talk about tossing a ball around with Gerry at the park is somehow the highlight of his week. 

In return, Jamie tells him about how his dad had played with him and Jordie, running them through drills in the backyard and teaching them how to love hockey. “He never let us get away with anything, either. I don’t think I ever won an arm-wrestling contest with him.”

Tyler eyes Jamie’s biceps. “I find that hard to believe.”

Jamie laughs. “Nah, I wasn’t always like this. I wasn’t a strong kid. Big, but not all that strong. But he never gave up on me,” he smiles. “Without him, I probably would be a tax accountant or something.”

“Instead of a big tough personal trainer,” Tyler says. He holds the gym door open for Jamie to fit past him. 

“You joke, but I could probably bench you if I wanted to.”

Jamie looks back when Tyler doesn’t reply, expecting to see the familiar glint of competition on his face. Instead, Tyler is just staring at him, dazed. 

“Tyler?”

Absently, Tyler licks his lips. “Do you really think you could bench me?”

Jamie rolls his eyes. “I mean, I could definitely bench your weight. I’m not sure about the actual mechanics of benching you. What, would I grab your hip and your shoulders? And you’d have to hold a plank or something?”

Tyler swallows. “Oh. Yeah, I guess that doesn’t work. I just- I didn’t know you benched that much.”

“Personal trainer, remember? Not that impressive if your trainer can’t lift more than you.”

“You’re not my trainer,” Tyler says, amused. 

Jamie nudges him. “You mean this isn’t just a long con to get a dedicated trainer at the gym?”

“Damn, you caught me.”

“I accept payment in free tattoos,” Jamie replies, grinning. 

Tyler rolls his eyes and pushes past him into the locker room. “Yeah, I’ve seen the pieces you get, I don’t think that exchange rate translates.”

“I guess I’ll just have to be your trainer for a long time,” Jamie replies, finding a free locker and pulling it open. 

A hand wraps around his wrist, stopping him. He turns to look at Tyler, his skin blazing where Tyler touches him. “You promise?”

Tyler’s face is abnormally serious, his eyes bright on Jamie’s face. 

Jamie smiles, not sure what Tyler is looking for, but wanting so badly to give it to him. “Yeah, Ty. I promise.”

* * *

Jamie isn’t super proud of it, but when he first found Tyler on Instagram, it wasn’t his art that caught Jamie’s attention. It wasn’t even his smile, though that came close second. No, Jamie’s first, instinctive pause was on Tyler’s abs, this shirtless gleam of his muscles, the way that his tattoos curled down his chest. 

His initial, instinctive follow was, indisputably, a thirst follow.

He’d been a bit surprised that the rest of Tyler’s Instagram isn’t for a model or a professional athlete. With the exception of a few selfies or videos of dogs scattered throughout, the majority of Tyler’s posts are tattoos, stunningly inked and intricately detailed. 

Most of his work is geometric shapes, repeating patterns that spiral endlessly, but he has few photorealistic animals—and even fewer people—that tells Jamie his style is versatile. He doesn’t use many colors, but the ink still seems to jump off the screen, vibrant and alive. 

Had flipped back to a picture of Tyler’s face, beaming up at him from a boat, then back to his art, and had known even then that he was about to get in way over his head.

* * *

On Thursday, Tyler comes by the gym where Jamie works—separate from the one they attend together, because Jamie has learned his lesson about trying to work out somewhere his usual clients can see him—to get an early dinner. 

Jamie almost begs off. He’s still coming down from the workout, his shirt sticking to him, his face unattractively flushed. He feels sticky and gross, doubly so next to Tyler, who looks as perfect and put together as he always does. 

“Don’t you have to watch the boys?” he asks desperately, unable to say no to Tyler’s hopeful face.

Tyler waves him off. “They’re with the sitter right now. I could stay out all night if I wanted to.” He gives Jamie a sideways look as he says it, and Jamie can feel his face going even more blotchily red. Tyler does this sometimes, pushes on the charm, flirts and touches when Jamie least expects it. Like now, when Jamie is sweaty and red, and the furthest thing from attractive.

Jamie isn’t sure what the deal is, how Tyler ended up as a father of three at his age, but it can’t be a happy story. Tyler has never mentioned the boys’ mother, never even brought up exes at all, but Jamie can imagine all too many ways in which Tyler was hurt. 

He doesn’t want that for Tyler now. Doesn’t want to take Tyler up on his implications and then never see him again. Jamie, honestly, he isn’t sure what he wants. He’s not ready to jump in as a step-dad, not that Tyler has shown any interest in that direction, but he wants to take a risk on Tyler. But it’s more than himself he’s risking, more than Tyler even. And until he knows that he and Tyler are on the same page, whatever that page is, he’s going to play it cool. 

“Drinks?” Tyler asks, blazing right past Jamie’s awkward silence. His smile hasn’t faltered, but he’s looking out the window now, not directly at Jamie. 

Jamie resists the urge to give his shirt a reflexive sniff—he already knows what he smells like. Bad, mostly. “Let me shower, and I’ll meet you outside?”

“If you have to,” Tyler says, long-suffering. 

“It’ll only take me a minute,” Jamie replies, taking a step backwards so he can still look at Tyler.

Tyler gives him another sideways look. “Benn, if it’s that fast, you are not doing showers right.”

Jamie almost trips over his own feet, turns around quickly, and books it for the locker room. He doesn’t hear Tyler laughing at him, but that doesn’t mean he isn’t doing it quietly. 

* * *

Jamie doesn’t usually get drunk on weekdays, but he has Fridays off, and Tyler had brought back a tray of flaming shots and—well. It went downhill from there. 

The conversation quickly devolves as they work through the shots together, until Jamie blurts out something that’s all but kept him up at night.

“So what happened—” even drunk he can’t force the question out, can’t ask where the mother of Tyler’s kids is, doesn’t know how painful a bruise he might be pressing on. He settles for a more neutral “What was your longest relationship?” 

Tyler shrugs, fluid and loose. With every shot he’s leaned closer into Jamie’s space, and now the shrug jostles both their shoulders. “God, I don’t think anything even counts? There was never much to write home about. Nothing serious, you know?”

Nothing serious doesn’t end with three kids at 27. Nothing serious doesn’t make someone turn their face away from the light like Tyler is doing.

“Don’t you know the rules, Benn? We aren’t supposed to talk about exes,” Tyler says. As close as he is, with his head tucked in, the words fall against Jamie’s collarbone, and he suppresses a shiver. 

It takes him a moment to register the brush-off, but when he does, he almost pulls back. Only Tyler’s protesting noise stops him, and he can still feel shame curling in his stomach at pushing, when he’s been trying so hard to give Tyler his boundaries. 

He opens his mouth to apologize, and Tyler cuts him off as the waitress passes them with something blue that catches the low light of the bar. “We need whatever that is,” Tyler says, and pushes his way out of their booth. Jamie feels cold without his weight.

* * *

Part of the reason he’s gotten to be a regular at Seguin’s Stars, even though he hasn’t been an actual client since that first time, is that he likes to drop by when he has time. There is something about the buzz of the tattoo guns he finds weirdly soothing, a monotonous drum broken up by Tyler’s laugh, by the sound of Bishop arguing with Rads, of Tyler and Cassidy’s sibling banter. 

Cassidy had been the most suspicious of him when he first started coming around, lured in by Tyler’s bright smile and steady hands, but he can’t blame her. She would’ve been there when whatever happened with Tyler and his kids went down, and he’s glad Tyler has family in his corner. 

Now though, Cassidy just gives him a wave as he comes in, then points him to Tyler. Rads is used to him enough that he doesn’t even look up. 

Tyler has his sketchbook out at his station, pencil moving in strong, sure lines. Jamie comes around behind his chair, watching his hand move. 

“That’s pretty cool looking,” Jamie says, and Tyler jumps, pencil skittering across the page and leaving a dark streak. 

“Jesus, fuck, you scared me.”

Jamie holds up his hands. “It was an accident, I swear.” He can hear Cassidy and Rads laughing at him, which doesn’t lend credence to his argument.

“Let me finish this thing, I’m on a roll.” Tyler nods his head at the low stool pulled up to his station. When Jamie had gotten his work done, their positions had been reversed, Jamie in the chair, Tyler leaning into his space from the chair.

Jamie tries not to be weird about it, but there is something mesmerizing in the way Tyler draws, the smooth sounds of pencil on paper, the way he wrinkles his nose when a line comes out wrong.

It feels like no time at all has passed when Tyler puts his pad down, stretching long enough to make his spine pop. “Sorry about that.”

“Don’t be. I like watching you work,” Jamie admits, too honest.

Tyler gives him a look under his eyelashes, something shy and almost bashful. Then the bell chimes over the door and the moment breaks. Tyler glances over, clearly disrgards it, and turns back to Jamie. 

“I took the boys out this weekend!” Tyler says, shaking off the calm of his drawing state like water. “Want to see?” 

Jamie almost hesitates. Until now, Tyler’s kids have been a mystery, told of only in Tyler’s stories and left to Jamie’s imagination. Tyler doesn’t even post photos on his Instagram, just posts selfies, or pictures of dogs. He can’t help but feel, absurdly, that seeing their faces will make it real.

But maybe there’s nothing wrong with that. Maybe they’ll have Tyler’s smile, his curls, his energy. “Yeah, I’d love to,” he says, and means it. 

Tyler pulls his phone out, already beaming. 

“So, there was this new park that opened up a few weeks ago? Much bigger than the old one. So Marshall gets away from me, and gets all the way into the fountain before I can stop him—” 

“Ty!” Cassidy calls from the front. Tyler looks up, hands stilling on his phone. Cassidy is at the register, talking with whoever walked in, a nervous looking man with no visible ink. “Got a question for you!”

“To be continued,” Tyler says, slipping his phone back into his pocket. 

Jamie lets out a long breath, feeling disappointed and relieved both. He still doesn’t know what he wants, what Tyler being a dad means for him—would mean for them. Maybe it’s better that Marshall and Cash and Gerry live only in stories and his imagination until then.

* * *

Jordie laughs at him over the phone as Jamie tries to explain it. 

“He’s not asking you to sign the adoption papers, dude. It sounds like he’s interested, god knows why, you should go for it.”

Jamie leans against his counter, cradling the phone between his ear and his shoulder. “Yeah, but it’s different, isn’t it? With kids in the picture?”

“He’s not an alien creature, Chubbs. He’s still just a guy.”

“A guy with kids,” Jamie stresses, in case Jordie missed it.

“Kids, also not alien creatures.”

Jamie scowls down at the floor. “Fuck off. This is a legitimate concern. I’m trying to be like, considerate and shit. Tyler’s a great guy.”

Jordie sighs, pointedly and directly into the phone’s speaker, so it crackles against Jamie’s ear. “Here is an absolutely novel idea. Why don’t you talk to him?”

There is no good way to say that the very thought of it—of having The Talk with someone he hasn’t even slept with yet—makes him want to crawl underground and not leave for a solid three months. The thing is, he knows all of his answers are stupid, and he knows exactly what Jordie will say to every excuse Jamie offers. 

“I’ll think about it,” he says. 

“Liar.”

Jamie hangs up on him. Who asked Jordie his opinion anyway.

* * *

When Jamie swings by Seguin’s Stars the next day, Tyler is already waiting outside. He absolutely lights up when he sees Jamie, and it’s enough to give Jamie hope—maybe Tyler is waiting for Jamie to make his move. Maybe Jamie should, for once, take his brothers advice and just ask. Tyler has to have been burned before, maybe he can’t put himself on the line without assurance.

“I’ve been thinking about what you said,” Tyler says, smiling stretching across his face. 

“Said when?” Jamie has said a lot of things to Tyler, most of them stupid. 

“When you said you could lift me. I’ve been thinking about it.”

Jamie honestly hadn’t given it more thought than that, it had been a joke. The first, absurd, image that comes to mind is the lift from Dirty Dancing. The thought is followed immediately by the absolute knowledge that neither of them would be able to stick that landing. 

“Was your thought ‘wow, that sure was a funny idea, but there is no logistical way we could pull it off’?” Jamie asks, setting off down the sidewalk. 

Tyler rushes to catch up, “No, my thought was- what about squats?”

Jamie stops walking. “What about squats?” Tyler nudges him to move, and Jamie takes a step forward on instinct. “I mean, if you’re thinking…” he trails off, trying to picture it.

“What are you squatting?”

“About 250,” Jamie says. He feels a surge of embarrassed pride at that look Tyler gives him, impressed and something else that Jamie doesn’t dare name.

Tyler whistles, a low sound that brings a blush to Jamie’s face. “Damn. Well, I’m about 200, so that shouldn’t even be a thing.”

Jamie gives Tyler a once-over. “Really?”

“What, were you expecting it to be more, or less? In which direction should I be offended.”

Jamie’s flush darkens further. “That’s not what I—I just meant, you look good.” Absurdly good for someone headed to the gym. 

Tyler preens. “Thanks, I know. My point is, if I can get on your back, you could totally squat me.”

Jamie thinks about it. Thinks about Tyler climbing onto his back, or worse, his shoulders, long legs wrapping around him and— “What for, though?” he forces out through a throat gone dry.

“To see if we can, obviously.”

“Obviously,” Jamie echoes weakly. 

Tyler pulls open the door to the gym for him, ushering Jamie ahead of him with a showy bow. 

“You ready for this?” Tyler asks, when they’ve stowed their stuff and moved out onto the gym floor. Jamie looks around, vaguely embarrassed, but there aren’t any other people around. If this goes badly, at least no one will see them. 

“I guess.”

Tyler smacks Jamie’s chest with the back of his hand. “Where’s your team spirit, Benn?”

“What team,” Jamie mutters, but he gets reluctantly into position. 

“Ready?”

Jamie takes a deep breath. “Ready.”

He can hear Tyler ready himself, than the abrupt weight as Tyler jumps straight from the floor onto Jamie’s back, his arms going around Jamie’s neck. Jamie reaches out automatically to steady him, his hand landing on the bare skin of Tyler’s legs. 

“Oh, fuck,” Tyler says, laughing directly into Jamie’s ears. “Fuck, just let me—” he hitches himself up on Jamie’s back, his arms tightening around Jamie’s neck. Jamie tries to help him, hooking his arms under Tyler’s knees, pulling him up until Tyler’s legs go around his waist. 

It feels dangerous and illicit, a position that’s so innocent with his young cousins, made into something else by his attraction to Tyler. He wonders if Tyler has done this with his sons, carried them around the house while they scream in his ear. 

“Okay, okay, I’m good,” Tyler says, still laughing. His mouth is up against Jamie’s ear, making him shiver. He’s pretty sure Tyler doesn’t have to be this close. “Let’s go, five reps!”

Jamie snorts. “You’re ridiculous.”

Tyler digs his heels into Jamie’s stomach. “Show me what you got, hot stuff.”

And, well, Jamie can’t say no to that. He didn’t get where he is now by turning down challenges. He has to widen his stance just to be sure that he won’t topple over with the additional weight. Tyler might be lighter than what he usually lifts, but he’s also more bulky, all the weight on his back, not balanced on his shoulders. Jamie has to lean forward to steady himself, and he would definitely chastise any of his clients with form this bad.

Slowly, carefully, he lowers himself into a squat, holds it for a beat, then stands up. Once he accounts for the weight distribution, it’s not even that hard. 

Tyler whistles. “Damn, Benn, you weren’t kidding.”

“I can’t even tell you’re up there,” Jamie replies, doing another two squats in quick succession. 

He can actually hear Tyler swallow, and when Tyler speaks next, his mouth is touching Jamie, lips moving against the delicate shell of his ear. “I’m not gonna lie, it’s pretty fucking hot.” He curls his mouth around the word fucking, making it sound filthy. 

Jamie didn’t even think his ears were that sensitive, but the sensation and the words together make his knees wobble at the worst moment—he wavers going into the third squat, and when he tries to push back up, he’s too aware of Tyler on his back, the breath on his neck, the squeeze of Tyler’s strong thighs on his hips. He loses his balance and goes down hard, only barely rolling to avoid landing directly on Tyler. 

For a dazed moment, he just lies there, staring up at the fluorescent lights of the gym. Tyler’s leg is pinned under him, and Jamie is half-sprawled over Tyler’s waist. He can feel Tyler shaking under him, and feels a surge of genuine concern until the noises Tyler is making resolve into laughter, full-throated belly laughs that make Jamie’s lips just to hear them. 

“Oh my god,” Tyler says, words barely distinguishable through his laughter.

“Think that’s funny?” Jamie asks, fighting down a laugh of his own. 

“I mean, pretty fucking funny, yeah.”

Jamie rolls over, moving into Tyler instead of away from him. It’s a mistake, he knows that immediately. He comes up on his hands and knees above Tyler, arms on either side of Tyler’s face, legs bracketing Tyler’s hips. 

Tyler stares up at him, and the laughter fades from his face, and Jamie isn’t so oblivious that he misses the heat that replaces it. He licks his lips, and Tyler unmistakably follows the motion with his eyes. 

And suddenly, all the reservations that Jamie has don’t matter. Tyler has, unmistakably, been flirting with him in escalating waves. He keeps saying that this is Tyler’s call, and then ignoring every signal that Tyler sends him. He stares down at Tyler, his hair a mess around his face, eyes still creased with laughter but blazing with heat, and thinks, Fuck it. If this is what Tyler wants, if Tyler is willing to risk it on him, then Jamie is all in. 

Jamie leans down and takes Tyler’s mouth. The scrape of their beards together is unfamiliar and fucking hot, sending shivers down his spine. Tyler’s mouth parts under his immediately, and Tyler links his arms around Jamie’s neck, pulling him even closer. Tyler kisses like he does everything else: with passion and enthusiasm and the kind of skill that makes Jamie lose his breath. 

Tyler makes a low noise as they kiss, surging up to hook his leg around Jamie’s waist, a reversal of their earlier position. It’s not enough to pull Jamie down onto him, and that doesn’t seem to be Tyler’s intention, because he just keeps it there as they kiss. It’s surprisingly nice, slow and involved, exploring one another, Tyler playing with the hair at the nape of his neck.

A throat clearing makes them jerk apart, Tyler’s hands and leg falling to the ground as Jamie surges up. The gym security guard is giving them both a very unimpressed look. “I know the gym is empty, but we do have security cameras.” He indicates the camera in the corner, which, Jamie would imagine, has a very good view of the current position. 

Jamie’s face goes red. “Oh my god.”

When he looks over, Tyler is just grinning. “Sorry, but have you seen him?” he indicates Jamie. “What would you do.”

“Oh my god,” Jamie says again. He gets to his feet and all but pulls Tyler with him. “We’ll go.”

“I would also advise using standard gym equipment for your workouts. Rather than your training partners,” the guard says dryly, and Jamie wants to die. 

“Thank you,” he forces out. He can see Tyler is about to say something, no doubt embarrassing and inappropriate, and he wraps his hand around Tyler’s wrist, pulling him along. Tyler goes willingly, laughing. 

“We have to find a new gym,” Jamie says as they leave.

“Why? He thought it was funny!”

“I didn’t!” Jamie snaps, face still flushed with embarrassment. 

Tyler jolts to a stop, watching him, but Jamie keeps going, intent on getting as far from the gym as possible. Then Tyler rushes up to him, catching his wrist and pulling him to a stop. “Hey, slow down.” He waits until Jamie meets his eyes, looking uncharacteristically hesitant. “Do you regret that?”

Jamie has to take a deep breath, push past the embarrassment to the look on Tyler’s face. “No, of course not. Fuck, Tyler, I’m all in here.”

“Yeah?” Tyler’s face breaks into a smile, and Jamie can’t help but match it. 

“Yeah.”

Tyler twists his grip on Jamie’s wrist until he’s holding Jamie’s hand, beaming down their entwined fingers. “Cool.”

* * *

Tyler calls him later. Jamie had been dithering over it, not sure if the three day rule applied when you already knew one another. Tyler, apparently, doesn’t care, cheerfully admits that he just wanted to talk with Jamie, a kind of forthright courage that Jamie marvels at. 

“Do you want to do dinner, maybe tomorrow?” Tyler asks, and Jamie grins stupidly at the floor. 

“Dinner sounds great. Did you want to bring the boys?” Saying it still causes its own swoop of anxiety in the pit of his stomach, but it doesn’t terrify him anymore. 

“The boys?” Tyler sound confused. “I mean, no? I wasn’t planning on it. I mean, most restaurants aren’t exactly down, and I kinda wanted to, you know, do this nice. All official and shit.”

“I’d like that too,” Jamie says honestly. “But I’d like to meet them, sometime.”

He can hear the smile in Tyler’s voice when he replies, “Yes, of course. They’ll love you. I can’t believe you haven’t already met them.”

“I haven’t been over to your house yet.”

“Well, we’ll have to change that, won’t we?” Tyler’s voice drops low, insinuation dripping off his tongue.

Jamie hesitates, not sure if he wants to spend the night before he’s even met Tyler’s kids. He has a horrifying mental image of their first meeting being him half-naked and exhausted in the morning. “Are you sure that’s a good idea?” he asks carefully.

There is a long pause on the other end of the line. Then, “Sorry, I shouldn’t make assumptions. I just thought. I mean— yeah. Whatever is good for you, you know?” 

Jamie opens his mouth to say—something, he isn’t even sure yet, but Tyler’s voice cuts him off. 

“Gerry— no! Get out of,” there’s some muffled scrabbling, then “Cash, leave your brother alone!” And, clearer, “sorry, Jamie, I have to handle—I’ll call you later, okay?”

“See you tomorrow?” Jamie asks, suddenly unsure. 

“Yeah,” Tyler says, and the phone line clicks off. 

* * *

Dinner actually goes better than Jamie expected. They meet at a midlevel steak place, nice, but not so nice that Jamie feels out of place in his jeans and button up combination. Tyler looks amazing, in his own jeans and t-shirt, with a dark jacket thrown over to make it look dressier. 

It’s not exactly candles and wine, but Jamie doesn’t think he would be able to handle that anyway. He prefers the midlighting and beers, he and Tyler trading sips from one another’s drinks. 

They tackle food in the same way, sharing between Jamie’s smoked salmon and Tyler’s steak, splitting the sides between them. It’s light and easy, and more fun than Jamie can remember having on a date before. He wants to take Tyler back to his place and mess him up, wants to make him laugh for the rest of the year and more. He tucks his hands into his jeans as they leave, resisting the urge to pull Tyler too close. 

Tyler has no such restraint, pulling Jamie in by his belt loops when they reach Jamie’s car, pulling Jamie against him. “Are you going to invite me back to your place?” he asks against Jamie’s lips, teasing. 

Jamie’s hands settle instinctively on Tyler’s hips, kisses him slowly before he has to ask “Don’t you have to get back home?”

Tyler pulls away, searching Jamie’s face. “Do you want me to have to get back home?” he asks slowly.

“No, I just,” Jamie runs a nervous hand through his hair, “I just want to make sure you’re comfortable with this.”

Tyler smiles and leans back into him. “I am so, so comfortable with this,” he says.

“What about the boys?” Jamie asks.

Tyler laughs, dropping his head onto Jamie’s shoulders, “Jamie, I’m starting to think you only want me for my sweet, darling children.”

“No,” Jamie says, worried. He tips Tyler’s face up to look at him. “No, I just know they’re important to you. I want you to know I get it. I’m all in, boys and all.”

Tyler’s face goes soft, and he leans in to kiss Jamie again, gentler than the last, thorough and explorative. “Come back to mine, then,” he says, “you can say hi.”

“Tonight?” Jamie asks, hands tightening on Tyler’s hips before he forces them loose. 

“Unless, you don’t want to?” Tyler asks, and the vulnerability on his face cuts through Jamie. 

“No, I do. I wasn’t sure, because it’s late—”

Tyler laughs. “They love meeting new people. They’ll lose their minds.”

Jamie takes a deep breath. “Yeah. That sounds great. Let’s go.”

Tyler gives him a quick peck on the lips, and Jamie knows that this is so, so worth it. 

* * *

He follows Tyler’s car home, surprised to find that Tyler lives so close to Jamie’s own place. Tyler gets out to meet him after he’s parked, taking him around to the front door. 

“You’re going to want to brace yourself,” Tyler grins as he unlocks the door. “They’re not supposed to jump, but they do anyway.”

Jamie has a split second to think ‘jump?’ before the door swings open and three dogs come careening towards him. Tyler moves to intercept them, letting the dogs hit him first, but after a perfunctory greeting, they all turn to Jamie.

“These are the boys,” Tyler says, practically beaming with the same pride that Jamie has seen in him every time he’s talked about them. “The darkest is Marshall, then Cash, and Gerry is the golden.”

Jamie is so stunned he doesn’t resist as the dogs surge on him. Tyler has to pull Cash down from jumping on him. Gerry sniffs at his hands, nudging them for pets, and Marshall sniffs around his legs, looking more skeptical than his brothers. 

Then, slowly, Jamie starts to laugh. He has to lean against the door with it, thinking of how much time he spent fucking stressing about it, about how often he declined Tyler’s offers to come over, when Tyler has three fucking dogs.

He sinks to the ground, still laughing. All three dogs take that as an invitation, licking at his face and neck, bathing him in doggy kisses.

Then Tyler is pulling them all away, crouching down next to him. “You okay, dude?”

Jamie gasps, trying to catch his breath. Tyler is starting to look a little worried, so Jamie flails until he catches Tyler’s hand. “Tyler, I thought you were a dad,” he says.

“Yes?” Tyler says slowly.

“No, like, with actual kids. Like, human children. I thought you had three sons.”

Tyler stares at him, then drops his butt to the floor with a thump. “You thought I was a _ dad _?” he asks, incredulous. “Like, me?” he gestures at himself, like there might be some confusion.

Jamie nods. “A single dad.”

Tyler shakes his head, and moves around so he’s sitting next to Jamie, both their backs against the door. “You must have thought I was a really bad father.”

Jamie uses his hold on Tyler to tug him closer. “Tyler, I thought you were an _ amazing _father.”

“Really?”

“Really. It was pretty intimidating, actually.”

Tyler laughs. “So, when I invited you over, you thought—”

“I thought you were inviting me to meet your kids, yeah.”

“And you came anyway?”

Jamie shrugs, feeling stripped open under Tyler’s scrutiny. “Well. Yeah.”

Tyler leans against him. “Damn, you have it bad.”

He can’t help but laugh. “Yeah, I guess I do.”

Tyler turns his head into Jamie’s shoulder, and Jamie can feel the shape of his grin through his shirt. “I guess you better meet them then.” He clicks his fingers, and the three dogs are on them again. Gerry all but climbs into Tyler’s lap, Marshall sniffs at Jamie’s shoes, and Cash resumes enthusiastically licking Jamie’s face. 

“So, these are my kids. What do you think?” 

Jamie looks at them, at Tyler giving Gerry an enthusiastic belly rub, and Marshall now trying to wrestle his shoe off his foot, at Cash who has closed his eyes as Jamie pets him. “I love them.”

Tyler meets his eyes and beams. “I knew you would.”   


**Author's Note:**

> This story also brought to you by my coworkers, who did try to squat one another and did fall over immediately.


End file.
